one. And never have I grieved for that action since.

With tears on my cheeks quite undissembled, and a breast not ashamed of
fluttering, I ran to Firm Gundry, and took his right hand, and allowed
him no refuge from tender wet eyes. Then before he could come to see the
meaning of this haste--because of his very high discipline--I was out
of his distance, and sitting on a rock, and I lifted my eyes, full of
eloquence, to his; then I dropped them, and pulled my hat forward, and
said, as calmly as was possible, "I have done enough. The rest remains
with you, Firm Gundry."

The rest remained with him. Enough that I was part of that rest; and if
not the foundation or crown of it, something desirous to be both, and
failing (if fail it ever does) from no want of trial. Uncle Sam says
that I never fail at all, and never did fail in any thing, unless it was
when I found that blamed nugget, for which we got three wagon-loads of
greenbacks; which (when prosperity at last revives) will pay perhaps for
greasing all twelve wheels.

Jowler admits not that failure even. As soon as he recovered from canine
dementia, approaching very closely to rabies, at seeing me in the flesh
once more (so that the Sierra Nevada rang with avalanches of barking),
he tugged me to the place where his teeth were set in gold, and proved
that he had no hydrophobia. His teeth are scanty now, but he still can
catch a salmon, and the bright zeal and loyalty of his soft brown
eyes and the sprightly elevation of his tail are still among dogs as
pre-eminent as they are to mankind inimitable.

Now the war is past, and here we sit by the banks of the soft Blue
River. The early storm and young conflict of a clouded life are over.
Still out of sight there may be yet a sea of troubles to buffet with;
but it is not merely a selfish thought that others will face it with me.
Dark mysteries have been cleared away by being confronted bravely; and
the lesson has been learned that life (like California flowers) is of
infinite variety. This little river, ten steps wide, on one side has all
lupins, on the other side all larkspurs. Can I tell why? Can any body?
Can even itself, so full of voice and light, unroll the reason?

Behind us tower the stormy crags, before us spread soft tapestry of
earth and sweep of ocean. Below us lies my father's grave, whose sin was
not his own, but fell on him, and found him loyal. To him was I loyal
also, as a daughter should be; and in m